Tragedy Marks the Beginning
by iLaviRabi
Summary: This takes place in the scene in Catching Fire where the mist makes it's first appearance in the Jungle, third book is NOT included! I guess it's an AU story. Peeta dies, and Katniss doesn't know how to handle it. M for lemons in later chapters!


Note from the author: THIS TAKES PLACE IN THE MIDDLE OF CATCHING FIRE! It does NOT include the third book! This starts off from the scene where the mist makes it's first appearance in one section of the jungle!

It was over. The mist had completely obliterated Peeta's nerves. I was so ashamed. How could I return to District Twelve, knowing that I couldn't save someone who'd loved me so much? Finnick had to wrench me away from his lifeless body, sling me over his shoulder as I kicked and screamed, choking a sob as I heard the cannon fire for Peeta. All I could think about was Peeta's family back at home, under the illusion that their son was going to be a father. My mother, who must think that I am going to be a single mother when I return home; if I return home. All I am capable of doing is burying my tear-stained face into Finnick's broad shoulder, letting the sobs rake over me violently. Would I have cried this hard for Gale? I don't know. I don't want to know.

Finnick places me on the ground when we've reached clean air, we'd forgotten Mags, but that didn't matter. I felt selfish, but I could only think about how I'd lost Peeta. Finnick's golden fingers patted my head while he sat on the damp ground beside me. "You loved him, didn't you?" he asked ruefully. I paused, only to feel the tears welling up in my eyes again. Did I love Peeta? No, it no longer mattered. Peeta was gone, I was alone. Though Finnick was there, I felt alone. I yearned for Peeta's muscular arms to wrap securely around me, his silky voice assuring me that it was just a nightmare. But I never woke up; this was real. Peeta was gone, our alliance had been reduced to Finnick and I. It was us against the Careers, of course we stood a chance, but things would have been running smoother if we had Peeta with us. Soon enough, after playing a long 'what if' game with myself, I felt the exhaustion of trying to save Peeta,tears, and the despair pull me into a nightmarish slumber.

It was hours later that I woke up beside Finnick, my head using his broad shoulder as a pillow, his arms holding me securely. This wasn't Peeta. He couldn't take my nightmares away like Peeta could. The tears stung at my eyes, though I tried to blink them away. My head tilted to look at Finnick, his lovely emerald green eyes met with mine; he stayed silent though, evidently, he wasn't sure what to say. I wasn't either. I'd just experienced a loss, and I'm sure he knew what horrible loss felt like. All we were capable of doing was sit there in silence; I was grateful that he would allow me to think for a little while. That was when it occurred to me that if Peeta was gone, I would surely have to win these games for the sake of District Twelve. If I didn't win these Games, I wanted at least Finnick to. I couldn't help but feel such a deep, searing hatred for him because he'd wrenched me away from Peeta's lifeless body, but I wouldn't have left Finnick there either. I disliked having to take someone's life with my own hands, I hated these Games. I hated how it turned even the most decent of people into savages. Peeta had a chance of living a normal life; he didn't kill without trying to calm the situation. He had hobbies that were legal, while mine was punishable by death. Now we were left with a freak show, all of us were experienced killers. We'd all murdered others in vain. None of us were saints. Peeta may have taken a life, but it was only to keep us alive. The rest of us... we murdered for revenge. Such as I'd shot Marvel for killing Rue in the first games, it was out of pure rage, not for my own survival. Gale must be watching me right now with the utmost disappointment evident in his eyes, 'You have to keep going, Katniss.' I could practically hear those words passing through his lips right now.

Gale was right, I had to be strong and keep going. I had to change my plan. I couldn't sit like this with Finnick forever, no matter how much I wanted to stay like this and sulk. "We.. we have to keep going," I stated with obvious trouble, the lump in my throat made speaking a rather difficult task. Finnick's golden fingers stroked my brown hair, which must have had a layer of filth over it from swimming in the salt water. "I object, Katniss," he replied evenly, "you've lost someone important today. I doubt you could function correctly at the moment, that could be troublesome if we run into the Careers." Finnick was right, I could potentially cause trouble if we ran into any of the other tributes. Who knew what my emotions would do? I supposed staying here with him for a while would be safest; I didn't exactly trust Finnick fully, but I knew I had a higher chance of surviving while he was around. He knew how to hunt, keep himself together, act as a leader.. This golden-skinned man didn't win the annual Hunger Games for being weak-minded. He was a charmer, soothing people was likely one of his specialties. Not only that, but he was capable of murder; it wasn't exactly a big deal for someone's life to come to an end in the Hunger Games, but the death of Peeta was simply too much for me to handle.

"Do you miss him?" Finnick asked me, evidently, he was being sympathetic toward me. I didn't want his sympathy; I wanted Peeta. But as always, I wanted what I could never have; I wanted the impossible. I had to accept the fact that Peeta was truly gone and there was nothing I could do but win for my District. What about Finnick, though? It was unlikely that he would simply _let_ me win. He was still a resident of District 4, after all. There was someone he truly loved back in that District, he had someone to go back to. The mad girl who'd almost been forced to participate in the Games for a second time; the girl Mags had volunteered herself for. I wasn't sure if he was lucky or unlucky; if he didn't make it back, the mad girl would definitely be left in despair. If he made it through, he could live happily with her. In all truth, I rather envied him. I had Prim, my mother and Gale to return to, but they weren't the ones that I truly wanted to return _to_. I couldn't face the shame of coming back without Peeta; I felt like a disgrace. At least Finnick could go back and live a.. significantly normal life with the mad woman. I could never go back to District Twelve like this, I simply couldn't bear children with someone _other_ than the sensitive baker I'd once known.

"Come on, Finnick," I complained after another few minutes of sitting in utter silence, "I want to keep moving." The golden-skinned victor sighed quietly at my requests, though he nodded his head once. "Fine, Katniss, but I'm just worried about you." Worried? Why would he be _worried?_ We were going to have to kill one another eventually, so this was something I couldn't comprehend. He had to be lying. I simply gave a curt nod to tell him I'd acknowledged the words anyway, a slight frown present on my lips. Finnick rose to his feet, offering a hand to help me stand up. I shook my head in response, rising to my feet without his aid; I wanted to do things on my own. Moving through the bundle was quite difficult, I kept stumbling over the vines, only to be caught by Finnick each time I nearly fell. "Come on now, Katniss. Is the _baby_ really kicking now?" the copper-haired male teased, a playful smirk curving up the corners of his lips. Ah, the baby. I'd almost forgotten about my 'pregnancy' after all the drama. The viewers much be in agony, seeing a now single 'parent' on television. I hoped the sponsors were going crazy right now. Maybe if I got enough sympathy, maybe even another one of the tributes will team up with us. "Katniss," the tribute from District 4 muttered, quiet enough to make sure the microphones wouldn't hear, "contractions. Fake one." I nodded curtly in response to show that I'd heard, placing hand over my stomach and faking a moan of pain. "Finnick.. My stomach is starting to hurt," I whined quietly. "It must be the baby, Katniss." I keeled over, my arms holding my stomach as I was on my knees. "It's hurting, Finnick. I don't know what's going on." Finnick kneeled down next to me, placing a hand on my stomach. "It's the baby," he repeated. I hoped this seemed.. genuine, I would probably end up in serious trouble if I was found out. It may have been just been a little unconvincing because I'm on the skinny side, but the viewers may be convinced that it's because of the games; the people of the Capitol will probably guess that it's because I hadn't been fed well and trained for this day. Either way, I let out a blood-chortling scream of pure agony. I supposed that the other tributes had heard the scream, for there was some movement in the woods indicating that we were being spied on. The footsteps proceeding to sound farther and farther away; they seemed to be afraid of harming a woman carrying a child within her. But they likely knew they were only delaying the inevitable, but they needed to get themselves prepared to do such a thing.

Finnick was quite the excellent actor as well, he looked rather pale and was coated in a layer of sweat; in a nutshell, he looked as if he was a nervous wreck. I groaned in pain, my forehead pressed against the dirty ground. "Finnick, it's.. AH!" I screamed again, letting multiple shudders rake up my spine. The copper-haired man from District 4 dropped to his knees beside me, his hand stroking over my back in a soothing way. "Relax, Katniss.. The contractions will be over soon. You're going to be fine." I choked out a quiet 'okay,' to show that I'd acknowledged his words. My sponsors must be going crazy, thinking the pain I was going through was unbearable. They must be begging Haymitch to send in a parachute for something. I didn't exactly want him to waist the money from our sponsors on little, insignificant things though; the hints he gave me were always helpful. If a gift _was_ sent, I wanted it to be something that told me if I was doing things correctly or incorrectly. No gifts came though, maybe he was too drunk to be paying attention to the games. I knew Haymitch to be quite responsible though, so he must be working on getting me a gift to hint at something; he was very clever. I was tired again, exhausted. My eyelids were heavy while my eyes were red and puffy from all my previous tears, and I acted as if the 'baby' was settling down. "You must be exhausted, Katniss. I suggest you get some sleep now, I'll keep watch," Finnick suggested, offering me his broad shoulder to sleep on. I paused for a moment, thinking of whether I should accept his offer or not; if I accepted this, I would be much more comfortable than simply snoozing on the floor of the jungle.. "Alright, thank you," I agreed, though I let a hint of stubbornness sneak into my tone of voice. Laying my head against his shoulder, my eyes closed slowly. After that, I went into a deep, peaceful sleep, without even a single nightmare..

/END OF CHAPTER ONE/

There will be lemons later on, but I'm not sure if I'm going to put up a second chapter. If I get some requests, then I might just put up the next chapter I write.


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